


For Your Eyes Only (Cherry Pie)

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confident!Mike, Established Relationship, Harvey's caught in a meeting, M/M, Marvey Fic Challenges, Mike in Panties, Mike's a cheeky bastard, PWP without Porn, Sexting (ish), Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, flustered!Harvey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FOR YOUR EYES ONLY, that’s what Harvey sees when he checks his phone in the middle of the partner’s meeting. </p><p>(Or: the one where Mike bribes Harvey with a striptease through email to get his boyfriend to skip out of the partner's meeting)</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Your Eyes Only (Cherry Pie)

**Author's Note:**

> (Also: because I love Mike in Panties.)
> 
> I really don't care if it's been done or if it's a trope. The song "Cherry Pie" just keeps running through my head as I wrote this PWP. It's like 11:53pm here. I made it. I can't believe I made it in time to submit this! OMG. Hahaha. Not Beta Read.

**FOR YOUR EYES ONLY** , that’s what Harvey sees when he checks his phone in the middle of the partner’s meeting. The rule of the room is now cellphones on the table but there isn’t any explicit mention of phones _under the table_. Louis stands in front talking about hot to raise the billables per client.

Besides, Harvey reasons inside his head, it could be a client.

Wrong.

Dead Wrong.

What he sees—and what he hopes Goldberg, who’s sitting beside him, isn’t seeing—is _white lace panties_ stretched over Mike Ross’ delectably round ass. He’s rock hard in his slacks in an instant. From the looks of it, Mike’s comfortably lounging in his bed at the condo, if the headboard gives any indication.

The photo also sports the caption ‘ _you should see the front’_ with a wink-faced emoticon tacked on the end.

“Harvey,” Jessica’s stern voice cuts through his lusty haze. She’s looking at him knowing, as if she _knows_ the contents of his private cellphone number, with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows raised. “Is there a reason why you aren’t paying attention?”

Harvey locks the screen with a swipe of his thumb. He feels like a kid getting caught by teacher passing notes.

“Client,” he barely says through gritted teeth.

“Is it important?”

Stowing his phone away, he shakes his head. “No, it can wait.”

“Well, if you’re done disrupting the meeting, I want to get through the…”  Louis rolls his eyes in front on cue. His voice trails off in Harvey’s ears. He talks about billables and cutting down the firm’s expenses _without_ reducing their stock of uniballs and branbars.

His phone vibrates two more times consecutively in his pocket. Harvey bites his lip, tempted to take another peek despite the warning look from Jessica.

“That sounds urgent,” Goldberg leans in to whisper.

Harvey curses himself for choosing vibrate instead of silent. As a lawyer, it’ll be risky to place his phone completely on silent at the risk of his client actually having an emergency. He can’t just cut himself away from the rest of the world—even for an hour or two.

It vibrates again.

He glances up to see if the coast is clear. Jessica’s nodding at something that Louis is saying while the rest of the partners are nodding their heads of in sleep and not attention. He thinks that, maybe, the light in porter’s eyes is actually a game of _Flappy Bird_.

Harvey pulls out his phone, making sure to hide the screen from any prying eyes, and opens the email. It’s all picture attachments, and undoubtedly taken from his bedroom in the condo.

The first picture has Mike in front of the large mirror in front of Harvey’s bed, sitting crossed-legged, all the way with his thighs pressed tightly together, with his shoes, shirt, and tie loosened on his neck but no pants in sight. It gives Harvey the perfect view of his long, pale, shapely legs and just a hint of the white undergarments.

Harvey feels hot under his collar. He’s always had a fascination for legs, Mike’s legs in particular and how they wrap around his waist when they fuck face-to-face. He likes the way Mike uses his thighs to keep his trapped like a vise. Always smooth under his fingertips. Mike must shave to keep them maintained. He should probably insure the damn things.

In the second picture, Mike’s lost his tie and opened up his shirt all the way. Harvey spots the rosy pink nipples peeking under the white dress shirt. The bastard must have undressed and _redressed_ without the undershirt to make this happen, and that meant planning. Mike looks freshly showered too if the faint pinkish hue on his skin is anything to go by.

Harvey stares at the slight glisten on Mike’s skin. While not bulky, Mike’s body is built with lithe muscle and toned to absolute perfection. There’s strength in his inner core and legs that he uses whenever he rides Harvey _hard_ in the night and straight to oblivion.

Mike _got ready for him_. It entails a long fragrant bubble-bath, lotion, and cherry lube.

True enough, the next picture is a close up of Mike’s face with his tongue licking lip lower lip. It shines through the pale tungsten light of Harvey’s room.

His phone vibrates again, signaling another message.

He’s is nearly too afraid to open it, but he does. It’s a mirror-selfie again. Mike’s lost his shirt but kept his tie. It acts like an arrow pointing downwards. His legs sprawl wide—open, eager, and presenting—on the edge of the bed. His cock—reddish purple and leaking—pokes out of the lace.

Harvey digs nails into his palms to keep from moaning out aloud. Now, he isn’t sure how he’s going to make it out of this meeting, let alone this room, with a massive erection.

Apparently, even all the way from the condo, Mike makes the choice for him.

The guitar and drums of Warrant’s _Cherry Pie_ blare from his speakers. Everybody in the room jumps. Then, like everything plays in slow-motion, turns to Harvey with a mixture of expressions on their faces—Jessica’s is chastising, Louis’ is open hostility, Goldberg’s is concern, and the rest simply were shock, surprise, and sleepy.

Harvey manages to keep it cool but inside he’s yelling ‘shit, shit, shit’ on repeat. He tries to think back to when Mike could have changed his ringtone to that horrible rock song, but comes up empty. Maybe, this whole thing really is part of a larger more devious plan.

“Harvey?” Jessica’s question lies in her tone. It also warns him to _get the fuck out_ without actually having to say anything. He wants to kiss her feet, except he doesn’t really do that.

“Client,” he lies smoothly, hopefully smoothly enough that even Jessica can’t read into it. “It’s important.” His erection wilted enough from his near-heart attack to be able to stand. Still, he adjusts his jacket as an added precaution and resolutely _does not flee_ the room.

Harvey Specter does not flee. He simply walks—very fast.

**Author's Note:**

> I postes this under a different name. Hope you didn't get lost the first time... :))
> 
> Anyway, if you liked or enjoyed this fic, you should know what to do. **Comment/Kudos/Bookmarks** are always appreciated by this author. :) 
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask), I don't bite, pinky promise!


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